Confessions of Guilt
by ElenaPrince55
Summary: (Based on TV Show) Clay was devastated after learning about Hannah's suicide. When he listens to the seventh tape, staring Zach Dempsey, all he feels is anger towards him. However, after a certain conversation, perhaps Clay has found someone who actually understands and can offer comfort. Warning: Mature Content


In the backyard of the very house that he had lived in for the entirety of his life, Clay Jenson wished that he was anywhere but there in that moment of time.

Speaking to Zach Dempsey.

The man who was the seventh reason why.

In truth, ever since Clay had started his tape, all he had ever dreamed of was one moment when the two of them were alone. Where he would not have to worry about others witnessing the moment that he avenges Hannah.

He has had ample time to image the moment, whether it would be a punch or a few hurtful words. Anything to help Clay repress the horrible feelings of guilt that were swirling in his stomach.

He has not yet come across his own tape, which is both a blessing and a curse. A blessing as he hasn't needed to experience what was sure to be insurmountable pain on his part. A curse, because it kills him to not know the extent of what he has done. Whether it was horrible, hurtful or just full of boyful ignorance.

The last couple of days have been the worst. Lately Clay had been hallucinating, thinking that people were saying things that never left their mouths or that he had done something he never had the strength to do. It has even gotten to the point where the school was noticing. He had begun to believe that what he did was worse than anything that he had yet heard, and was fearing the worst.

Then Clay had done the cowardly thing and cut the words 'Why me?' into the side of Zach's car. At the time he had just been so angry at everything that he needed someone to blame. And the car had just been there. The words were not even his own: he had needed to make it seem to himself that it was not him doing the deed. That it was all for Hannah. Even if he did not believe it himself anymore.

Who was Clay kidding? He had cared about Hannah more than anyone else, had perhaps even loved her. And now he was using her memory as an excuse to lash out and take her actions out on the one person on the tapes who was perhaps the most innocent. The one who literally had no idea the amount of damage he was doing to her, taking away her compliments.

It hurts Clay to even admit that to himself.

Looking at the man in front of him, Clay Jenson clung to the last string available to him in order to prove to himself that Zach was guilty. He needed to. To hold on to the last string of sanity that he had left. "So you threw it away. The letter." At least he knew this.

Or so Clay thought.

"No." Zach's speech had sped up, as if he believed that telling Clay faster would make him more inclined to believe him. "No I didn't. Hannah lied about that." When he saw that Clay was becoming angry at the very thought of distrusting Hannah, he switched tactics." Okay, maybe that's what she saw, I don't know. I freaked out. But I never threw it away."

Out of his wallet Zach pulls out the letter. Not a single crease was seen other than the folds, proving that he never did scrunch it up and throw it away. All of Clay's accusations and hurtful words that burned on the tip of his tongue would not be of any use. Because there was conclusive proof that Zach did care about Hannah, that he was affected enough to keep the note that she had written him, telling him everything.

To some degree, Clay was jealous. Hannah had chosen to tell someone else more than she had told him in the entirety of them working together. That hurt. But Clay also knew that he deserved it. He had been too afraid of rejection to even show the slightest bit of care towards her, and this was her small way of telling him that. Even if he did not realise until much too late to do anything about it.

Nobody said the truth was easy. And even of it was slowly killing Clay on the inside, he was still happy that he knew.

Barely able to see anything in front of him but the letter, Clay gives his dad a small "We're coming,", not even hearing what was said elsewise.

Zach understood. The first time that he had read the letter, it had taken everything inside of him not to show reactions on his face, to walk out of the hallway without confronting Hannah about the very real issues she was facing. Every day, since her death, it had been hell to walk down that hallway or enter communications class without thinking about what he had done. Some part of him knew that there was no way that he could have understood the consequences of his actions. Hannah was never an open person. But he also knows that he was to blame. Taking her compliments was an arrogant action that only a coward would do. He didn't even have a good enough reason. She was completely justified in yelling at him during lunch, at having her own opinion in the matter of them dating. It wasn't as if he loved her of anything. He had just been so humiliated that he had not thought about what he was doing until he read the letter. And then he had been so scared to act out that he had kept quiet and watched from the sidelines while her mental health deteriorated. All thanks to him.

He was far more to blame than Clay, whose only action was to do exactly as Hannah had bidden and leave. Zach had known what he was doing.

And he hated himself for it.

He was not even suffering as much as Clay was. He hadn't yelled at the entire school, or gotten betrayed by those he thought were nice people just to save their own skin, such as Alex and Courtney. Such as himself even, working with Justin to keep the truth a secret, at Clay's expense.

Hannah was right in those tapes. Zach was lonely. And he knew more than anyone what Hannah had been going through. Only, he had people who cared about him to make him get up each morning. He had a reason to live. Zach took the reasons away from Hannah.

And he was sick of denying it. He no longer cared about what Clay did. He didn't even care about his car. All that he cared about was if Clay was okay, if he was going down the road towards suicide as well.

Zach would NOT let another person die because of him.

"I'm sorry, Clay." Zach tried to make himself sound as genuine as possible. He did not want Clay to be suspicious of yet another person who could potentially hurt him. Clay had enough to worry about as it was. "I'll always be sorry." At this point he became lost for words, not knowing what to say to the man who truly cared, and who perhaps could never let go. In the end, he offered the only piece of consolidation that he had. "Do you want to read it?" He slowly hands the letter to Clay, giving him some time to consider and reject.

Clay was lost. He knew that he desperately wanted to read the letter, to hear anything that could tell him more about what Hannah was going through. But, Clay knew that it would hurt him, to know that he could never do anything about it. And so he refused. And turned around to walk inside, not knowing what else to say.

Zach was devastated. He had done nothing to help Clay out of the hole he was digging for himself. So he did the only thing available to him. "Clay." As Clay turned back around, Zach took in a deep breath and proceeded to pour his heart out. He was done with secrets: they turned into bullets that could inflict serious damage. Hannah was the proof. "You may never trust me again, after you now know what I did. And I will never expect you to. But don't blame yourself. She cared for you, and knew that you would never do anything to hurt her. Her death is not on your hands. So don't let the guilt that you are so obviously feeling control you. I don't care that you hate me. I don't care that you hate the people that I call friends. I don't care that you ruined my car. But never follow Hannah down the road of pain. Don't close yourself off. The burden is not yours to carry. So let me carry it instead." He was willing to put all of Clay's weight on his shoulders to save the man standing in front of him. Clay only had to say the words.

Clay was shocked, that Zach would do that for him, and he thought Clay was suicidal. But most of all, what he saw was a man who actually understood what he was going through and was willing to take on double the guilt in order to free Clay of it. A man he knew he would respect for the rest of his life.

But he was still suspicious. Every single person on the tapes had turned out to be willing to do anything in order to keep their secrets safe. Would Zach be up to this all for protection? Clay desperately wanted to believe Zach. He needed someone to talk to, someone who did not require him to explain himself. So he decided to test Zach. By asking him the question nobody would answer.

"What did I do to her?"

Zach knew that it would be easier for Clay to hear it from Hannah's own mouth. But he decided to relieve a part of the man's guilt. And so he answered, "You listened to her. You left when she asked you to. That's all." He hoped it was enough to help, but not enough to hurt.

Clay knew what Zach was talking about. And, while it helped, it did also hurt. He had listened to her, and all it did was harm Hannah more.

He needed comfort.

Afterwards, Clay believed that it was their mutual understanding that spurred him to do it. That he had found someone who understood and was actually willing to help, shown in him answering Clay's question. That he had needed it after Sheri Holland.

He leaned forwards and kissed Zach. After a couple of seconds, Zach kissed back.

It wasn't tender, or loving, or even caring. The kiss that they shared was long, aggressive and a way for the two of them to pour out emotions that they had bottled up for a long time. The feelings of guilt and anger.

Clay's hands made their way onto the back of Zach's head, allowing him to control the angle of the kiss. Control of his life was something that Clay had been craving, something that he had been lacking, and something that he now felt. In response, one of Zach's hands pulled Clay flash onto his body, while the other made its way into Clay's hair, where he pulled lightly but firmly. As the seconds passed, the heat that they both generated made them want to do a lot more. To have more release of anger and guilt in a more intense fashion. Neither were in control; their carnal desires had taken over, and hands had begun to roam.

To gain even more control, Clay began to push Zach towards the garden, where he ended up being wedged between Clay and a tree. Clay desperately removed the jumper from Zach's body. And then the shirt. Zach, eager to see the flesh on Clay's torso, grabbed two handfuls of the sinful fabric and ripped, destroying Clay's top in the process. But neither cared. After a few minutes of making out, Zach switched the positioning so that Clay was the one pressed to the tree. He then proceeded to lay kisses over Clay's neck, while his hands explored Clay's hips and back. In response, Clay let out a low moan, surrendering the control in favour of the intense pleasure he was receiving. While neither was experienced, they knew enough to know how to go about pleasuring the other.

Zach's exploration of Clay's body led him to Clay's nipples. Knowing how much girls like to be touched there, Zach proceeded to pinch one while sucking and nibbling on the other, hoping that it would elicit a response from the man underneath him. And respond Clay did, with a groan so loud it was a wonder the parents did not hear while his previously immobile hands made their way into Zach's hair. But Zach did not stop, moving lower and lower until he reached the pants, where he finally stilled and waited for permission. He did not want to do anything Clay was not comfortable doing. He cared too much.

It was a wonder that Clay could think clearly through the carnal desire. However, he did have enough sense to realise that having sex in the garden, in full view of any adult currently inside who was sick of waiting, was a bad idea. Knowing that they should not continue, Clay had no control over his instincts at that current point of time: the desire for one thing and one thing only. The man currently waiting for permission to continue what was sure to be an enjoyable exploration for the both of them.

"Not here. My room," was all Clay could pant out. He then proceeded to walk towards the drainage pipe that he had used a week ago to escape from the house. And began to climb.

Zach had by this stage understood what Clay was talking about. Smirking at the sight of a topless Clay climbing the drainage pipe, he waited until Clay had made it to the roof before following. Once they had both made it onto the roof they wasted no time entering Clay's bedroom and quietly barricading the room using the desk. They wanted no interruptions. As Zach surveyed the room, Clay grabbed the lubrication liquid that he keeps in his bedside table draw. Seeing this, Zach smirks while Clay blushes, obviously never having had sex with anyone before.

Noticing this, Zach whispered a quick "Don't worry. I'll be careful," before grabbing the liquid, placing it on the bedside table and pushing Clay onto the bed, careful not to crush him. Knowing that this was Clay's first, and both of their firsts with another guy, gave Zach the incentive to make this experience as good as possible.

After considering foreplay for a little bit, Zach decided they were too desperate to wait. Zach's hands move to Clay's pants, asking silently for approval. When he receives it, he wastes no time and takes the rest of Clay's clothing off, leaving him exposed. Knowing that Clay was feeling self-conscious, Zach quickly tells him that he looks good before hastily removing his own clothes.

Neither noticed the letter falling to the ground, out of Zach's pocket. It had become irrelevant.

Clay could feel himself blushing at seeing another dude in such a compromising position. Never did he think that he would live to see the day that Clay Jensen would be having sex with a man. He wasn't gay. Just desperate to share an experience with someone who understands his pain, to be able to forget and to trust. And he wanted this more than anything.

Zach noticed Clay's hesitation. However, he also saw the desperation and desire, and that was enough for him to continue. Applying lube to his hardened length in generous amounts, Zach moved so that he was positioned at Clay's entrance. He then proceeded to warn Clay, "You have to relax. There will be pain, as your body is not used to being breached. Do you want me to continue?" He had to make absolutely sure. Zach could not handle making another mistake after the one that cost someone her life.

Clay knew there was no turning back. But he didn't want to. He knew that this was sex of the purely carnal nature: no emotions were involved. So perhaps this was not right. But Clay found that it was necessary for him to begin to move on from the girl he thought he loved. He did not even hesitate to answer, "I'm sure."

At first there was pain. But Clay welcomed it, welcomed the intrusion that he knew would change his life. So he said nothing and waited for it to transform to the pleasure he had only ever had a chance to taste before. The forbidden fruit.

Zach had never felt anything like it. Girls were tight, yes. But nothing compared to the tight heat of a virgin. And Clay was Zach's first virgin. Needless to say that it took all the self-control that Zach possessed not to move. Instead, he waited for Clay to make the first move before thrusting.

After a couple of minutes, the pain died down until it was non-existent. Having had time to grow used to the feeling of being filled, Clay began to seek out pleasure by giving an experimental wiggle of his hips. Which caused a small moan to escape.

This was all the encouragement that Zach needed to move.

And move Zach did. Each thrust brought more and more pleasure to Clay. After a few a rhythm was found, and Clay began to meet Zach's thrusts, an action that brought the both of them even more pleasure.

Zach loved every second of it. The feeling of Clay's heat and the tightness made his prick feel snug. It was bliss. Zach began to try thrusting at new angles, suddenly hitting something that made Clay moan out in earnest.

Clay had no idea what had happened to make the pleasure increase tenfold. He only knew that he needed it to keep happening. In order to pleasure himself Clay began to wank himself, using his pre-cum as lubricant. The pleasure continued to build.

And build, and build….

Zach came first. The heat that enveloped his length was too much for him to handle, and he came deep inside Clay. Clay followed not long after, spraying all over their chests and effectively sticking the two men together.

As the two recovered from their orgasm, both men knew that they had now connected themselves to each other. But neither minded. They had found what they wanted: a sense of release of emotions, and, more importantly, someone who understands the guilt that they now know they share.

Neither is alone.

Maybe everything was going to be okay. And, as Clay looked out the window and saw a bird flying across the horizon, he could not help but think so.


End file.
